There’s plenty of bad, if you let yourself fixate on it. Plenty outside your control, if you dwell. A widening gap between values at the top and values on the ground. And of course, there’s always more work to do.

Maybe that’s why, in recent years, I’ve stopped looking up for answers. Instead, I’ve started looking around me. After all, my kids’ world view won’t be fixed based on how today’s leaders behave, but on much more accessible daily rhythms: What it feels like to walk to school, or who they meet on the playground.

The good news is: That’s the kind of stuff actually within our sphere of influence. And with a little effort, you can get others on board, too. Hyper-local community matters more than ever.

So if you’re looking for a way to get involved, try to start with something as immediate as it comes: Your neighbors.

At its core, The Manhattan 75 is a block association: We represent the neighbors of West 75th Street, from park to park. Given how densely populated the Upper West Side is in New York City, we estimate that our constituency conservatively covers at least 3,000-5,000 people.

After being displaced by toxic black mold two years ago, I realized community would be the make-or-break factor in keeping us in the city. What I’ve learned – through our cleanup days and invitations to gather – is that other people want it, too. They just don’t know how to get it going.

The more I get to know neighbors on the block who have lived here for decades (as opposed to my mere 2 year residency on West 75th Street), the more stories I hear about the way things used to go.

People used to greet each other on the street. Vie over flowerbed beautification. Building residents grew up living down the hall, and stayed friends for life. It’s hard to imagine what that might be like these days. But those stories aren’t just nostalgia; they’re a blueprint. The Manhattan 75 is our attempt to bring some of that spirit back.

A few weeks ago, a fire tore through a building down the block. Overnight, many of our neighbors were left without permanent housing. We scrambled to find short-term sublets on the block, hoping to keep people close to the community they’d built. But we couldn’t make it work: Affordable housing here is scarce, even for those who desperately want to stay.

But we have to start somewhere.

Luckily, last fall I reconnected with several of the former block association leaders, who have pitched in immensely. Though the association had gone mostly dormant since the pandemic, the energy and commitment were still there. Today, we have the beginnings of a small but consistent board, and our first major street-wide initiative (rat mitigation and block beautification), led wholeheartedly by a neighbor who stepped up to own it.

For me, that’s what community stewardship is about: Finding others who want to play in the sandbox. My role as President isn’t to decide what everyone does, it’s to create connections for neighbors to bring their own ideas to life.

This past weekend, we successfully convened 20+ volunteers for a day of block beautification. We picked up trash from Central Park to Riverside Park, and we added mulch to 40+ unattended tree beds on the block. Along the way, we paired off in groups and met neighbors. At the end of each two-hour shift, I noticed some truly meaningful connections taking place. An offer to join a new friend over breakfast at a diner, an exchange of numbers to spend more time together, an accepted invitation for additional volunteering, an offer to babysit. ‘

I even brought my kids along, who gleefully decorated the sidewalk with their chalk drawings and even did their best to assist with shoveling mulch into the wheel barrow. Not including my 3 and 5-year-old helpers, the age range of volunteers that joined us on Saturday ranged from 24 to 80. As it turns out, it feels pretty good to get involved.

When’s the last time you collaborated across three generations in your own neighborhood?

In a world where so much feels out of our control, hyper-local community is where our influence is real. If you’ve been curious about getting involved on your own block, there’s no better time to start.

You can learn more about The Manhattan 75 here. I also recommend the Neighborhood Village Project or The Longest Table projects as resources or ideas to get yourself going on community building. And for New Yorkers, be on the lookout for the Love Your Block program if you’re looking for a little funding to get started.

There’s plenty of bad, if you let yourself fixate on it. Plenty outside your control, if you dwell. A widening gap between values at the top and values on the ground. And of course, there’s always more work to do.

Maybe that’s why, in recent years, I’ve stopped looking up for answers. Instead, I’ve started looking around me. After all, my kids’ world view won’t be fixed based on how today’s leaders behave, but on much more accessible daily rhythms: What it feels like to walk to school, or who they meet on the playground.

The good news is: That’s the kind of stuff actually within our sphere of influence. And with a little effort, you can get others on board, too. Hyper-local community matters more than ever.

So if you’re looking for a way to get involved, try to start with something as immediate as it comes: Your neighbors.

At its core, The Manhattan 75 is a block association: We represent the neighbors of West 75th Street, from park to park. Given how densely populated the Upper West Side is in New York City, we estimate that our constituency conservatively covers at least 3,000-5,000 people.

After being displaced by toxic black mold two years ago, I realized community would be the make-or-break factor in keeping us in the city. What I’ve learned – through our cleanup days and invitations to gather – is that other people want it, too. They just don’t know how to get it going.

The more I get to know neighbors on the block who have lived here for decades (as opposed to my mere 2 year residency on West 75th Street), the more stories I hear about the way things used to go.

People used to greet each other on the street. Vie over flowerbed beautification. Building residents grew up living down the hall, and stayed friends for life. It’s hard to imagine what that might be like these days. But those stories aren’t just nostalgia; they’re a blueprint. The Manhattan 75 is our attempt to bring some of that spirit back.

A few weeks ago, a fire tore through a building down the block. Overnight, many of our neighbors were left without permanent housing. We scrambled to find short-term sublets on the block, hoping to keep people close to the community they’d built. But we couldn’t make it work: Affordable housing here is scarce, even for those who desperately want to stay.

But we have to start somewhere.

Luckily, last fall I reconnected with several of the former block association leaders, who have pitched in immensely. Though the association had gone mostly dormant since the pandemic, the energy and commitment were still there. Today, we have the beginnings of a small but consistent board, and our first major street-wide initiative (rat mitigation and block beautification), led wholeheartedly by a neighbor who stepped up to own it.

For me, that’s what community stewardship is about: Finding others who want to play in the sandbox. My role as President isn’t to decide what everyone does, it’s to create connections for neighbors to bring their own ideas to life.

This past weekend, we successfully convened 20+ volunteers for a day of block beautification. We picked up trash from Central Park to Riverside Park, and we added mulch to 40+ unattended tree beds on the block. Along the way, we paired off in groups and met neighbors. At the end of each two-hour shift, I noticed some truly meaningful connections taking place. An offer to join a new friend over breakfast at a diner, an exchange of numbers to spend more time together, an accepted invitation for additional volunteering, an offer to babysit. ‘

I even brought my kids along, who gleefully decorated the sidewalk with their chalk drawings and even did their best to assist with shoveling mulch into the wheel barrow. Not including my 3 and 5-year-old helpers, the age range of volunteers that joined us on Saturday ranged from 24 to 80. As it turns out, it feels pretty good to get involved.

When’s the last time you collaborated across three generations in your own neighborhood?

In a world where so much feels out of our control, hyper-local community is where our influence is real. If you’ve been curious about getting involved on your own block, there’s no better time to start.

You can learn more about The Manhattan 75 here. I also recommend the Neighborhood Village Project or The Longest Table projects as resources or ideas to get yourself going on community building. And for New Yorkers, be on the lookout for the Love Your Block program if you’re looking for a little funding to get started.